Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1887-10-15


| answers"
Il have told you often, father, that | do
not wish to marry. l have not changed my
mind"
Il shall not always be with you, my child
may die, and you will be left alone without
protection Or friends
Il have told you, father, l never wish to
marry"
"Tell me, my dear child. do you love any
one elsea lie perfectly frank with me. If
there is another whom you love in your heart,
tell Your father, my dear"
@Oh, father, that is most unkindl never
loved any one as well as do you, and never
shall Please say no more about it, for shall
never change"
There was such an accent of determination
in this that Rogers thoughts few back
| instantly TO the time when this child had
maintained in the face OF everything that she
"knew nothing; saw nothing" and he gave
up the attempt to alter her decision.
This is strange" said her father
Nine. de Noirville, desperate, thought of
Raymond as this your last wordl Have
You no pity even for him, for his mother,
whose happiness is bound up in his?n
Il am truly sorry" said Suzanne, ''but
cannot change my resolution, which has been
taken long since"
Julia returned home with her heart in a
tuulult. She had failed Pierre took her
melancholy air as the death blow to his hopes,
and only asked hoarselv:
@WellP
"She loves another"
No one saw him again that night Raw
Inond did not know what had taken place
for several days after.
After Julia had gone Roger thought to
himself: "Who can tell what is in a Young
girls hearti" and he was vaguely uneasy for
two reasons. One was he feared she had
loved some one in America, and hiding that
love in her heart was bound TO suffer in 81
lence all her life, for he knew the quiet per-
sistency of her character; and the other
| thought was that she might not have forgot
ten that awful time, and that she felt that
all doors to happiness were closed to her for
ever. But how to discoverl How dared he
break the silence?
| Still he could question her more fully, more
tenderly and alone Perhaps she would tell
/ him, but no, the answer was always the
same. She loved no one so well as he, AMI
she was determined to never marty
II i
said, brusquely: Keep your secret. We
+ Will speak 10 more of marriage, but | may
say that you have bitterly disappointed me-"
and be left her with her eyes full of tears and
Outstretched hands which he affected not to
see
| The lives of all in the two families contin-
| ued the same for d few days without new
incident. Father and daughter avoided each
other as much as it was possible and when
they were together there WAS no allusion
made TO the demand of Mime de Noirville,
though their thoughts ran often upon the
subject
! Mime. de Noirville had finally told Ray
( mond of the step she had taken, and at first
he was inclined to reproach her for her uu.
fortunate erTand, undertaken without his
/ knowledge. The answers OF Suzanne to her
| fathers questions aroused in him the demon
of jealousy, and at last he could bear no
more. Il must know, must know, he cried
and rushed off through the woods and into
the park, in the blind hone of finding her who
filed his thoughts. Nowhere in the park
| could he find Suzanne, and half himself he
| approached the house, feeling that alone and
| single handed he could storm fortress for
the sake of seeing her. Drawn by invisible
attraction, he went to the large green house
where Suzanne was walking listlessly among
! the plants He reached her side and held
out his hands i'll silence She saw that his
face was drawn and 1agsard with suffering.
and her whole heart cried out for him, and
she gave him her hand.
suzanne! Suzannel | have had horrible
thoughts. l could bear them no longer What
Is this obstacle between U.S. have a right to
know. Your silence leaves me in the black
shadow of doubt; and forgive me, Suzanne,
think such dreadful things-such things as
you cannot imagine. They are worse to bear
than the truth would be, no matter what it
is. l pray you, Suzanne, on my knees, tell
me what it is that stands between US,
and / will bear it bravely if it must be borne;
but, obi tell me. Save my mind from such
agonizing torture your silence imposes
upon me with its unworthy doubts"
raymond said Suzanne at last, wiping
away with her own handkerchief the beads
of sweat that stood out on bis forehead as he
knelt before Raymond, you suffer
much, and pity you with all my heart. |
will tell you You have the right to ask me
to lay bare my secret, though it is not in
reality mine, but an0ther's.n
"Then hush, Suzanne Forgive me- no
longer wish to know.
1T is too late, said she In spite of your
cruel doubts which dishonor me, l pardon
you; but you must hear my fathers secret.
But first you must swear secrecy the most
absolute"
Il promise you, Suzanne, on my honor"
Suzanne closed her eyes as she leaned
against the wall.
Raymond" said she, Il cannot be your
wife, because the name bear is not mine,
nor that of nv father, for | am the daughter
of man in hiding from justice; because he
committed great crime, not one of those
crimes which vengeance explains and extenu-
ates, but an odious frightful crime, which
dishonOrs a whole family forever My father
killed man for money!
Raymond could not speak She continued:
You know of this crime, Raymond,
though you were young then, and your
father, the friend of my father, died in his
defense
Roger LaroqueI" whispered Raymond
ALAS, yes"
You are his daughter. You, then, are |
that little girl who bore herself SO nobly. so
bravely"
ALIAS, yes. Ny father escaped and lived |
all these years in America He thinks do |
not remember, and he wished to return to |
France at the risk of being taken"
What is his object"
THAT he cannot tell Inc, as he thinks have
forgotten As if l could ever forget"
"Bnt my father said that Roger Laroque |
was innocent He knew him WELL and friends
like him do not mistake. / believe my father
was right, and that your father was unjustly
condemned. There was mystery that was
never cleared up. Suzanne, do you know
thatF'
"Alasl Raymond, you are good to wish to
defend my father, but for me there exists no
mystery. The judges were right in their
questioning. l knew all My mother and
myself saw all Ny father was the assassin"
CHAPTER XIV.
These two poor children stood side by side
in the greenhouse, dumb with sorrow, almost
incapable of thought, as though their hearts
were scorched by lightning. For poor